


Any Port In a Storm

by OwlOfDeath



Series: His Lingering Scent [8]
Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Character Development, Drinking & Talking, Excessive Drinking, Explicit Sexual Content, Fantasy, Hair-pulling, M/M, Mages, Mildly Dubious Consent, Oral Sex, Original Character(s), Pirates, Quel'Thalas (Warcraft), Rough Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-18 09:53:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28865100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OwlOfDeath/pseuds/OwlOfDeath
Summary: Loneliness and too much wine makes Hashin cross a line, seeking comfort in the wrong place.
Relationships: Eugene Forester/Hashin Clearwell
Series: His Lingering Scent [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1798504
Comments: 4
Kudos: 3





	Any Port In a Storm

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place a few months short of a year after the events of [Lifeline](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24876778), and a little over two years after [Stuck in the Middle (with You)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24858484).

The warm light from the oil lamps that illuminated the captain’s cabin obscured the view of the seascape outside of the large lightlead windows, but the sound of the waves lapping against the barnacled hull of the stern could still be heard through the delicate glass. The waters were calm, but not still, lending a gentle swaying to the small galleon ship the Bloody Queen where she was anchored near a cluster of islands in the Forbidding Sea, not far off the coast of the Eastern Kingdoms. 

It was too dangerous to navigate the shallows between the islands at night for a ship her size, sailing around would have been both safer and faster, but open water brought unwanted risk to any pirate ship this close to the kingdom. The elves kept their corner of the world closely guarded, and the farther they sailed from the established commerce routes the less likely they were to get spotted by patrolling naval vessels. Even without raising her black the Bloody Queen looked like a pirate ship, and right now they were at a disadvantage, riding low in the water on account of her full holds and heavy artillery. In this state she was too slow to hunt, but also to flee should they catch the wrong kind of attention. 

As tempting as the fat trade ships frequenting the commercial shipping lanes were to any pirate crew they were heading up the coast to empty their holds, not fill them, after having spent a couple of fruitful months at sea. With the factions preoccupied with one conflict after another, and the supplies needed to fuel them shipped across the world, the hunting had been good. Even though their success had not been won without casualties their losses weren’t so bad that it was detrimental to the crew as a whole. Morale was still high and their captain, sensing his crew thirsted for more, had kept them on the prowl for longer than usual.

Captain Eugene Forester was a man who valued his independence. Instead of keeping a close relationship to a single port, as some did, Eugene and his crew would spend most of the year moving between them, roaming the seas. But that lifestyle also came at a cost. Not counting the remote islands with freshwater reserves they used to resupply, it had been quite some time since their last landfall, even for them. There were long stretches of water between ports along this coast, and they had not chosen the shortest route to get to them, either. It was hard on the men to stay out at sea for so long. Their final destination, however, was well worth it. 

They were approaching the kingdom of Quel’thalas from the south, avoiding Stormwind and the more heavily populated western side of the continent. One reason was the season, but another simple logistics. The Forbidding Sea had more neutral ports, making it easier to trade without the proper documentation, and that opened up the market to anyone with something to sell regardless of where it came from. 

But even within the more civilized parts of the world there were pockets of opportunists, more or less hidden coves with ports where the law had little to say about how things were done. Not even the proud kingdom of the sin’dorei was spared such criminal havens, inviting pirates, slavers and smugglers to her shores. Or perhaps they were especially inclined to look the other way, since the people of Quel’thalas were more than a little fond of the curiosities that could be acquired in such places.

Hashin went for the wine, again, unfazed by the gaze of the captain as he picked the glass up by the stem. His food was largely ignored, barely picked at, but the glass had been refilled several times already. 

“Don’t you eat?” Eugene asked, thoughtfully smoothing his thumb and index finger down the well-trimmed circle beard framing his mouth as he shot the man in front of him a glance from under his blonde brow. 

“It happens, on occasion,” Hashin chuckled, putting the glass to his lips. He watched the captain over the rim of it as he took a sip, waiting. Eugene snorted and turned his green eyes back to the ship’s log in front of him. He was stroking his chin as he read, tracing his chiseled jaw with the soft, scraping sound of fingertips against stubble. His own plate had already been pushed aside, his guest’s lack of an appetite clearly not affecting his own. 

“You’re suggesting we pass by Scallywag Point on our way back south,” he said, tapping the page with his finger, “and round the Broken Isles rather than cut straight through? That’s a few extra weeks, at least, sailing that far west.”

“The Alliance uses that lane frequently this time of the year, going between Menethil to Northrend, and the currents going around the isles are favourable. Especially together with the trade winds when sailing south-east.” 

“That lane also crosses the waters east of Kul Tiras. We could trap them between those islands more easily than searching the open sea.”

“Perhaps, but when they pass through there the Kul Tiran navy is never far away, either. I thought it might be worth it to avoid them,” Hashin answered and dropped his napkin over the meat and potatoes left on his plate, as if hiding it from view would make the senseless waste of a good meal less offensive.

“Granted, it would give us the opportunity to empty our holds over at Scallywag, moving any loot we picked up along the way. I’m acquainted with a decent fence there that specializes in Alliance marked goods. And the town isn’t half bad either, the men would get a chance to unwind before the final leg of the journey,” the captain said after a moment, lifting his gaze to observe his navigator. “We would still make it back to Freehold before the start of the tropical storm season.”

“That’s the idea.”

“I have to say, you’re a fast learner,” Eugene continued with a tiny quirk of his eyebrow, “this route is a promising proposal.” 

“You give me too much credit,” Hashin replied easily, voice smooth as he regarded Eugene from across the table, but there was a distinct spark of pleasure narrowing his dark brown eyes at the compliment. Glass still in hand he gestured with his pinky towards the leather bound volumes filling the low cabinet behind the captain’s desk, the wine sloshing slightly with the movement. “It was studying your old ship’s logs that made all the difference.” 

“Even so, you have picked up on it quickly, especially considering you have no previous sailing experience.”

“Thank you,” he said sincerely, his smile growing wider, tugging at the corner of his mouth, “I appreciate it.”

It wasn’t unusual for the captain to invite Hashin to spend the evening in his cabin dining and talking whenever work would allow it. His was the larger of the two cabins on board the Bloody Queen, and it doubled as both the captain’s private quarters and his office. Eugene would talk, and Hashin would help to polish off his good wine, and it had quickly turned into a bit of a tradition between them. 

Captain Forester was well known for running a tight ship with a strict chain-of-command, had a reputation for it. On the Bloody Queen piracy didn’t mean anarchy, it meant discipline, seamanship and, most of all, profit. In spite of living above his men Eugene made himself worthy of it in their eyes by leading them well, and by lining their pockets fairly. Every man on the ship was expected to be a skilled sailor, to be hard working and useful. But there was one man exempt from that rule, and that was the freshly appointed ship’s mage and fledgling navigator. 

Hashin Clearwell had joined them barely a year ago, and in spite of not even being able to tell the bow from the stern at the time he had been handed a privileged position on a silver platter. He had his own private room and was excused from the more physically demanding chores and tasks that came with the territory when sailing a ship like the Bloody Queen; his expertise was of an entirely different nature. Hashin was first and foremost an academic, and with no inclination towards violence on a crew of hardened pirates he was, without a doubt, the odd one out. The crew treated him with begrudging acceptance, sometimes even respect, but their differences also meant he was largely isolated from the rest of the men, the big exception being the captain himself. 

“While we’re there we should consider maintenance,” Eugene went on, more to himself than his navigator, “she could use a good careening before we sail for Kalimdor at the end of summer.” Hashin only gave a vague hum in response and emptied his glass, no longer bothering with the appearance of self-restraint as he tilted his head back and poured the last, generous mouthful of wine down his throat. “And she’s due a thorough rig inspection. We might get away with adjusting and tuning, check if anything needs replacing, but it would be best to disassemble the entire rigging and do things proper. Waiting for the weather to turn should give us plenty of time.” Hashin reached for the bottle across the table, and Eugene gave it an absent-minded push in his direction without pausing. “I don’t want to land anywhere on the way except to resupply, if I can help it.” 

Refilling his glass well past half full Hashin licked his lips as he put the rim to his mouth, taking a long sip before getting to his feet. Eugene watched him as he moved past him somewhat unsteadily, supporting himself with a hand on the table and then the desk as he made his way over to the bay windows at the back of the cabin. He seated himself on the cushions slowly, crossing his legs. “But enough about that,” the captain conceded as he followed his example, leaving the ship’s log behind as he left the table, “for now.”

Instead of joining Hashin on the seat by the window Eugene went to lean against the heavy dark wood desk in front of it, moving to half sit on the edge. The lantern above them squeaked softly as it swayed, timbres groaning with the ship’s gentle movement. He watched the other man drink for a moment, not in the least deterred by his silence. 

“It’s not long now before we reach Azurebreeze Coast. The cove is just south of there, so we should only be a few days out,” Eugene said finally, running a calloused hand through his short-cropped, sandy blonde hair. He had left his beloved leather tri-cornered hat behind on the dining table, the simple gesture putting rank aside for the moment and inviting an informal mood to settle between them, business concluded. “I imagine you’re eager to go ashore. We’ve been at sea for a long time; it can be trying even for a veteran seaman.”

“Mmh,” Hashin agreed, his gaze never leaving the other man’s face as he slurped a long, unhurried sip from his glass, taking his sweet time before answering, “though I won’t be joining you.”

"What’s this all of a sudden?” Eugene gave him a small, displeased frown, but Hashin met his eyes levelly.

“I’m not leaving the ship.”

“You can't be serious."

“But I am.”

“We’re men, not fish,” the captain argued and shook his head, gold earrings gleaming as they caught the light, “and as much as I love my life at sea all men need dry land under their boots from time to time.” 

“Mm-hm. But not _there_.” 

“For _morale_ , if nothing else.” 

“Why Captain Forester, are you _worried_ about me?” Hashin smirked teasingly, smoothly nudging the conversation in a different direction, but the captain didn’t bite. 

“I thought Quel’thalas would be right up your street. It’s very...” he rolled his hand lazily at the wrist, searching for a suitable word, “ _magical_.”

“So I hear,” Hashin replied, smiling blandly. He ran his hand through his hair, the soft, black waves reaching nearly to his chin, framing his pale face. As he shifted the deep red drapes behind him rustled lightly, the sound hanging in the silence between them. 

Eugene watched him closely for another moment, unconsciously rubbing the small scar nicking the bridge of his nose. “Don’t tell me it's because you’re wanted there for something?” he said finally, a subtle undercurrent of curiosity in his tone, but he didn’t sound enthusiastic about it. 

Hashin gave a sudden, small laugh, stopping him just short of taking another swig of wine and almost spilling it in the process. “What’s this now,” he grinned, “a _pirate captain_ concerned about a wanted man?” 

“Hardly, I just think I should be aware of it, in case it could cause us problems.”

“And what if I am?” he asked playfully, eyes mischievously narrowed. 

“Well,” he pressed, “are you?” A frown was creeping back onto his features, but Hashin only seemed increasingly amused. 

“I’ve never even been to Quel’thalas,” he chuckled, but the captain didn’t seem wholly satisfied with his answer. 

“A man’s reputation can spread.”

“I’m flattered, but no, I’m not _wanted_ anywhere,” Hashin said, gaze trained curiously on the other man as he added, “as far as I’m aware.”

Eugene scoffed, relaxing by a degree as he sat back slightly, “when you say it like that it sounds pitiful.”

“Hah, yes. I suppose it does, doesn’t it.”

“It did seem a bit too out of character,” he admitted, folding his arms loosely across his chest, “your blood just doesn’t run hot enough for that sort of thing.”

“Or _cold_ enough, perhaps,” he countered, but there was no challenge in his tone, and Eugene didn’t seem to take it as one either. “What about you, captain, do you have any bounties on your head? I admit I’ve not been paying attention to the posters.”

“Nothing besides the customary bounty they put on anyone practicing piracy. We don’t traffic in slaves, so I’m not as infamous as some, and I prefer it that way. Any captain worth his salt knows that that kind of attention brings nothing but trouble. I’ll take the fortune without the fame.”

“Clever man,” Hashin said with a faint smile, swirling the wine around in his glass before he finished it off.

“I suppose there’s nothing I can say to change your mind?”

“No.”

“Whatever it is you should get over it,” Eugene said frankly, only receiving a small, noncommittal grunt in response. “But a man’s entitled to keep a few secrets. As long as it doesn’t relate to your job on board or endangers the crew I won’t press you on this. Just don’t make a habit of it.”

“Duly noted,” Hashin chuckled as he slowly stood, his movements more careful than the simple action would normally warrant, noticeably unsteady on his feet. “If that’s all I think I’ll turn in,” he said, walking up to set his empty glass down on the desk, “thank you for dinner.” 

Eugene nodded in agreement, but then as Hashin went around him to leave he slid down from the edge of the desk, reaching out to place a firm hand on his upper arm. “ _Hashin_ , one more thing.” 

“Hm?” he hummed and turned back towards him, but his unsteady teetering turned the step into more of a drunken stagger, and the hand on his arm only made it worse, unintentionally reeling him in. Before either of them could react his nose prodded Eugene's cheek, the neat beard and light stubble grazing his lips, brushed against them only briefly, but it was still enough for him to feel the warmth of his skin against his mouth. Hashin made a low sound in his throat, wetting his lips. 

Without a word he dropped to his knees, close enough for the fabric of his robe to catch slightly on the buttons running down the captain’s long coat. His slender fingers worked the belt buckle with unexpected dexterity, tugging the belt free in a hurry as he followed up with the buttons, popping them open in rapid succession. Eugene’s trousers slid down his legs and folded over his knee-high leather boots, pooling around his ankles. He tried to back away, but the desk behind him was in the way, effectively pinning him between it and Hashin’s face. Staring down at him he furrowed his brow in stunned bewilderment. “What the _hell_ are y—“

Hashin’s hot and excited breaths against his crotch seemed to be enough to stir Eugene’s blood, provoking a spontaneous reaction from his body almost immediately, and he didn’t let him finish his sentence. Unabashedly he put his lips to his swelling manhood, taking it into his mouth without hesitation. Hashin closed his eyes as he started to work him to life, sucking and swirling his tongue all over the semi-hard cock with hungry enthusiasm, the attention swiftly turning it into a full mast. No longer able to fit all of him comfortably in his mouth Hashin began to move his head up and down a little instead, licking the tip, letting him sink a little deeper each time he passed over his length.

Mouth overflowing with saliva he paused for a moment to swallow, then moved to wrap his fingers around the shaft, but Eugene only smacked his hand away forcibly with a throaty growl before he could even touch him. With an expression like a silent snarl he grabbed a fistful of Hashin’s hair, making him flinch as he twisted it harshly in his grip to get a firm hold. But rather than shy away from the rough touch Hashin seemed to readily accept it, leaning in even closer with a groan. He looked up at him briefly, trying to catch his gaze, but the other man didn’t as much as glance in his direction. 

Yanking Hashin’s head back he held him in place as he started to move his hips, lips peeled back into an angry sneer. He thrust fast and deep, and Hashin’s body convulsed as he gagged, choking on him, his eyes starting to tear up. But Eugene wasn’t deterred by his reaction, he continued ruthlessly, pulling out only to force his cock down his throat again, barely giving him a chance to suck a breath through his nose. Reaching up he tried to put his hands on Eugene’s hips, but they were promptly slapped away, the grip on his hair only tightening. It made Hashin grunt and twitch, but he didn’t put up a fight. Wet clung to his long, black eyelashes as his eyes fluttered open into glistening slits, his chin slick with saliva running down from the corners of his mouth. Groaning softly he let his arms drop to his sides, visibly relaxing in his vice-like grip.

Eugene was quickly picking up the pace, no longer thrusting as deep but instead increasingly vigorously, clearly keen to reach his climax. And yet, out of the two men it was unmistakably Hashin who seemed to be the most into it. He was sucking on him eagerly, almost greedily, and when Eugene finally came with little more than a tiny shudder, spilling thick cum hot and sticky over his tongue, Hashin was the one who let out a muffled moan, drawn-out and suggestive from deep in his chest.

Eugene pulled out as soon as he was done, releasing him abruptly as if the black locks suddenly burned in his grip. The atmosphere in the room was tense, thick with barely contained rage, almost violent. With a look of disgust he gave Hashin’s forehead a forceful shove, and he fell back helplessly, gasping with surprise as he hit the floor. But the sudden breath quickly escalated into a fit of dry, uncontrollable coughing. He rolled onto his side and curled up slightly, struggling to take a proper breath, but as the hacking gradually calmed it started to sound more and more like a dark and joyless chuckle. Slowly pushing himself up into a sitting position he swallowed, wiping spit and cum from his chin with the back of his hand.

“ _You_...” Eugene tugged his trousers back up, buckling his belt as he glared furiously at the man on the floor in front of him, nostrils flaring as he tried to compose himself. “If I wanted _whores_ on my ship,” he practically snarled through his teeth, “I’d let _women_ on the crew.” 

Hashin’s expression was largely hidden in shadow behind his tousled hair, as hard to read as the thin and shaky smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. Eugene took a menacing step forward, but then seemed to think better of it, stabbing a finger towards the door instead. “ _Get out_ ,” he demanded vehemently, the authority in his voice unwavering, and Hashin moved to obey without a word. But he was slow getting to his feet. “If you _ever_ try _anything_ like that again, or so much as breathe a word of it,” Eugene grated out as he watched him, anger etched deeply into his features, “I’ll have you hauled off my bloody ship whether we’re in port or not.” Hashin didn’t answer, but continued towards the door, hand tracing the furniture for balance. “This _never_ happened,” Eugene growled from behind him. “Do you understand me?”

Hashin opened the door, but then stopped to glance over his shoulder. “Whatever you say,” he told him flatly, voice monotone, but his bloodshot eyes were honest and unflinching as they met the captain’s hard gaze.

“ _Never_ ,” Eugene repeated, emphasizing the words coldly, “ _happened_.” He pierced him with his green eyes, driving the point home, and then slammed the door unceremoniously in his face with enough force to set the hinges rattling. 

Hashin combed his mussed-up hair back with both hands before he turned his face up towards the velvet sky, perfectly crisp and speckled with brightly shining stars. The larger moon was just rising, pale and radiant over the water. During this season the Archer could be seen from the northern Eastern Kingdoms, its unconnected dots drawn across the sky. The familiar constellation stood out clearly against the deep blue backdrop, and if you tilted your head to the side far enough the curve of the Archer’s bow kind of looked like a ship, the summer star brilliant and guiding at its very tip.

His fingers felt through his pockets almost of their own accord, smoothly finding the cigarette case and popping it open, pulling one free to slip between his lips. He was just about to conjure a small spark between his index- and middle finger when something resembling a tense and choked laugh forced its way from his tight throat, catching in it painfully until he finally managed to push it down, swallowing hard. Pinching the bridge of his nose he squeezed his eyes shut, running his fingers slowly over them to wipe away the wet.

“Shit,” he mumbled hoarsely, almost too low to hear over the gentle murmur of the waves.

His cabin was right next door to the captain’s, it only took him a few moments to get there with his long stride, but it would have been even less had he been sober. Getting his key out he fumbled with the lock for a bit, struggling to get his aim straight, then tried the door anyway, but it wouldn’t open. Giving up he leaned his forehead against the door with a soft thud, cigarette still unlit in his mouth, pressed flat between his lips. Exhaling a slow and shuddering breath he covered his eyes with his palm, chin suddenly quivering.

“ _Shit._ ”

**Author's Note:**

> ... I can almost hear the cute little "chu~" leave Hashin's lips the moment they come into contact with Eugene's unexpected face.
> 
> But yeah, there's a _slightly_ different mood to this one. In the end it might've turned out darker than I expected it to, but it also takes place during a dark time in Hashin's life. 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> And since Ari got to share one of his theme songs it's only fair to let Hashin have one as well. So here it is: Runaway Train by Soul Asylum ([https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OzzKBxlIiEQ&feature=youtu.be](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OzzKBxlIiEQ&feature=youtu.be)).
> 
> This story is a bit of a bridge connecting this series to my other series about Jona (and to some extent Hashin), which is called [Beyond Sand and Sea](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1792156). If you're curious where Hashin and Eugene go from here that's where you'll find some of those answers.


End file.
